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britttracey · 7 years

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EVU DNF : six letters, so much disappointment

**Elk Valley Ultra** How was I supposed to pass up a chance to run an ultra 20 minutes from my house? I just couldn't. I knew the trails-ish, it was relatively cheap, and it was the inaugural running. There was no way I was passing it up. Elk Valley Ultra is a 50k race through the mountains of Fernie, BC, boasting 2800m of elevation gain and the ability to run it as a relay team split into three legs. There are no on course aid stations, only a small selection of things at the transition areas between legs. It's hosted by the local trail running club, Stag Leap Running Co. My training for this has been mediocre at best, for whatever reason I decided subconsciously that I would just run whatever I felt like running as long as I was gradually increasing my distances. Ugh. I only got in 3 32km runs (20 miles). My training is all on strava. It's nothing impressive. With the lack of on course aid and no one crewing me, I had to put together two drop bags and rely on that and what I could carry. I gave myself only one goal: finish the fucker, even DFL is better than DNF. With a 13 hour cutoff I figured I could manage. Why do I keep signing up for things like this? Who the fuck knows. **Friday July 28, 2017** I had an epically good sleep and woke up to promptly drive to the running store and purchase everything in there. I then fumbled around my house frantically putting together my drop bags. I've never put together drop bags before and just kinda winged it, thinking of the things I might need at km 20.5 and 37. I opted not to do a shakeout run as I spent most of the day pacing back and forth. At 4 pm I drove the 20 minutes into Fernie to register and pick up my race package. The thing I like most about doing these races are the people. You start to see the same people around at races and on social media and strava, and then it's like a fun little reunion at package pickup. All my friends are faster than me so the chances of seeing them on course are very slim haha. I headed home, had dinner and went to bed as early as possible after drinking all the water I possibly could. **Saturday July 29, 2017** **Pre race** My alarm went off at 4 am and I whispered to myself: "You could just not show up... DNS." I shook it off. No way, I was nervous but it was going to be one hell of an adventure and there was no way I was going to back out of it. I put together the last of my gear, ate breakfast and loaded up to make the 20min drive to the start line. I was starting to get zen. **Leg one** "Don't trust any thoughts you have while climbing" *20.5km, 1,480m vertical gain.* The race started at 6 am, I lined up at the back, wished my friends good luck and off we went. The group took off at a blazing pace for whatever reason, the first two Kms were relatively flat but Jesus had no one ever heard of Ultra pace? I tried to remember to run my own race. We came onto the trail head for Mt. Fernie and the climb began. "Jesus this is just the first climb, I can't do this." The negative thoughts started early on in this race and honestly surprised me. But I just kept telling myself not to trust any thoughts you have while climbing a mountain. I hit the top relatively unscathed at about km 7 and felt a million times better. The trail off the other side of the mountain is called "Rocky Road" and for good reason, it's steep and narrow and full of rocks and boulders and completely unrunnable in places. I held on to a fast walk Pace through here, and felt pretty great, the scenery was fucking insanely beautiful. It was in here I started taking salt pills, my friends swear by them and I have used them a couple of times. I started taking them every hour to hour and a half. We hit the second climb into Windy Pass which was much shorter but steeper than the first climb and my legs said nope. I maintained a slow shuffle to the top, and passed a guy who was puking into the bushes. This was an omen for my later race. After the climb the rest of the leg was pretty uneventful. I managed a good little trot for most of it, spent some time with a couple really awesome folks from the prairies and worked my way back down to transition area one where my drop bag was waiting, the only thing that seemed to be the same for everyone I spoke with was the fact that the aid stations were way off. The first was supposed to be at 20.5, so I started sucking my water back around 19.5. I didn't hit the AS until km 22.1. So I spent longer than I would've liked without water as the temps started to climb. *Drop bag at end of leg one* Smaller pre-filled (water/infinit) race vest, change of clothes, jacket and gloves, k tape and mile skin, cooling towel, sunscreen, body glide,turkey jerky, boost, dried apricots, pretzels and skratch gummies. I changed my pack, sunscreened up and soaked my cooling towel before heading off into leg 2. **Leg two** "Screaming and crying" *16.5km, 720m of vertical gain.* My notes for the first section of leg two simply say: "hot stumble food", which basically sums it up. The trail leading out of the AS was flat and hot, I figured it would be a good time to play nutrition catch up as I was having a hard time eating with all the climbing. I stumbled over roots while sucking the salt off of pretzels in the hot open sun. I hit the 25km mark at 6 hours into the race and cringed as I sent out a text saying I was going to be looking at a 12 hour finish. I crossed over the road and onto the trail for the first climb. I was firmly holding up the rear with maybe a handful of people behind me and I remember clearly thinking, "I am the caboose", this may have been the last rational thought I had. The climb started and it opened right up to the blaring sun, in km 28 I found the two best little streams ever though and got everything as wet as I could both times, I honestly contemplated drinking from the second one. The project 9 climb was where things started to go wrong, I found myself stopping periodically to catch my breath, there were hot spots growing on my feet, a big horse fly wouldn't leave me alone. I stopped and screamed at the fly "Fuck off just fuck off!!" While swinging wildly at it, I was starting to lose my shit. I sat down to dump my shoes out and contemplated not getting back up, but I did. I threw up. I threw up again. And then we started down hill. "Huh? That climb was shorter than I remembered?" I pondered. It wasn't, they just had us drop down to climb back up again. I threw up some more, took a salt pill, drank some water and sat down. I cried on a log in the middle of the trail. I got back up and kept going. I kept stopping. I couldn't eat. I'd never felt so bad in my entire life. I got up the climb and stumbled the traverse across the side of the mountain in the sun so I could get back into the trees. Finally some shade and downhill, I tried to pick it up into a light jog but the motion just made me sick again. I looked at my watch, cutoff for ta2 was so close. So fucking close. I aimed for a fast walk and shut off my brain. I finally hit the part of the trail where I had picked huckleberries with my friend and our kids on a recon mission the week before, I grabbed a couple as I went by and ate them, they were so good. I washed them down with a bit of hot water from my pack and promptly threw them up. Ate a few more. They stayed down. Huh? Maybe I'd be okay. (My notes here say "huckleberry revival" haha) My watch said the AS was only a km away at km 37 and I had 30 minutes to get there! Maybe I'd be okay. "Where the fuck is the aid station?" My watch rolled over to km 38 and I still had a long way to go. The cutoff clicked closer. I fought off tears as I realized at my current pace I'd need at least 3.5 hours to get through the last section which was open and hot for one of the climbs and still another 600m of climbing. I didn't roll into to AS 2 until km 40.5. With 2,230m of climbing. With 8 minutes left before cut off. I sat down in the medic tent and let the nice volunteers hose me down with a spritzer while the doctor put ice on my neck. I was advised that the leg was at least a km longer than advertised which meant at km 40 I still had another 14-15 km to go. I made the choice to drop. DNF'ing for the first time ever. At my second ultra. I waited for a friend to come and pick me up, defeated and still unable to eat anything. **Post race** As I sat with my friends who had finished listening to war stories and being told I did really well despite the circumstances I couldn't help but feel defeated and disappointed in myself. I should've kept going and tried. Even crossing the line past cutoff was better than DNFing, surely. I could've stumble/puke/cried my way up two more hills and back down, right? I'm not a fucking quitter, this isn't me. Did I just drop? Fuck. My awesome friends reassured me and told me not to be hard on myself, and I suppose I'll feel better once I get some distance from the whole ordeal, but DNFing fucking sucks. Sometimes shit just doesn't go to plan. **Final Thoughts** I wish I knew what happened so I could fix it for next time. I have another chance at 50k in a few weeks. I'm contemplating pulling out but I shouldn't make any big decisions right now. It's hotter and more exposed, but I've finished it before. I'm coming back better next year though for sure to take this race down. It was a hard event. Very self reliant. But the volunteers were fucking amazing and the scenery made every torturous step worth while. I might even go try it solo when the weather calms the fuck down.

#elk Valley Ultra #DNF #ultrarunning #race report

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ngdunbar-ct · 7 years

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Denver via bison habitat, prairie dog towns

I have made it to Denver! The start date for my through hike is right around the corner and I have a lot of preparations to do while here.

A lot has happened since my last post. A close encounter with angry bison bull in Custer State Park, a lightning show while camping in Badlands National Park, massive bison herd encounters in Wind Cave National Park, a quick stop at Mt. Rushmore, making new friends in Boulder, an unbelievably starry night camping in Rocky Mountain National Park, its been quite a trip since leaving North Dakota.

Before I go into details of those adventures, I want to give a big thank you Glenna and Norris for letting me occupy their guest room for a couple weeks. It was fun to be around these two, and difficult to say goodbye. They are so fun and energetic, it really was good for me to be able to hang with amazing people for that time. I am humbled that they took me into their tiny home on wheels and allowed me to occupy the guest bedroom for as long as I did. Its a big undertaking to travel across the country, and its an even bigger burden to shuttle a relative to Colorado from the midwest via the Dakotas.

Glenna and Norris, thank you guys so much! Your adventurousness is inspiring, don’t stop! Love you both!

Ok... where have I been since Lake Tschida? It feels like a blur at this point. We were never in one place for more than a night on the way here. We squeezed in as much as we could between Mandan and Denver. We had a couple hot days in Teddy Roosevelt National Park. we camped and hiked in both the north and south units of the park.

It was about 95 degrees both days we were in TRNP. I caught some looks with my umbrella from other park visitors. It was like having air conditioning. It was 10-15 degrees cooler in the shade and I took advantage. Norris dubbed me “Poppins” for the day.

Just before the sun dips below the horizon, the park’s badlands formations get dipped in a little sunset sorbet.

Bison were plentiful all along this segment of our trip.

The start of our early morning 11 miler in TRNP North Unit. We had difficulty finding the trail in the sage. There were so many bison trails, some of which appeared to be more of a trail than the actual trail, which was not blazed or marked well. We eventually found our way after a bit of wandering around in a morning maze of fragrant silver sagebrush and mini-canyons carved out by seasonal creeks. Care should always be taken when entering wilderness areas, especially when trails are barely marked. However, I never felt like I couldn’t find my way back to the car if needed. It was fun to reiterate to myself the definition of being lost. I was never lost. The trail is what was lost.

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I almost forgot that prairie dogs were a thing. We saw lots of them, this one during the Buckhorn trail hike. They live in massive colonies, sometimes containing millions of residents.

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We saw a herd of buffalo start to move. They stopped running and parked right on the trail. We eventually had to find a way around. I’m not sure what made them decide to start running, but the armchair biologist in me wants to think they smelled us as soon as we were upwind from them.

The next day we were in the south unit of the park, doing a hike through an ancient forest. All that remains are petrified stumps, estimated at 50-60 million years old. I was surprised at the size of some of them. And no, I did not intend to look like blueberry Willie Nelson... it just sorta happened.

We found ourselves on Mars in Badlands National Park for a night before heading to the Black Hills. I loved this landscape. There were three separate storm cells the the north, east, and south of our campsite. The lightning displays were amazing and I wish I had the energy to stay up and take pictures of it.

I picked up a new hat along the way. Its leather with a perforated bucket for some nice airflow. Also, this is not Mars. Original photo taken by Norris.

I want to tell you a story about bison. Before getting into it, I want everyone to know a couple facts regarding size and speed of bison. According to numerous information plaques at the parks we visited, a full sized bison can weigh more than a ton and sprint at 30 mph. After Badlands National Park, we headed to the Black Hills of South Dakota to camp for a night in Custer State Park, and visit some sites around the area. We dropped our laundry off at a laundry site a few miles from our campground. We drove up, set up camp, then Norris and I went back to get the laundry. We stopped at the general store for some beer, and were looking forward to cracking a few open around the campfire that night. It was a really beautiful night, the elevation gave us a break from the heat of the plains and we were ready to relax. With me in the passenger seat and the window all the way down, tunes playing, we came around a curve to find an RV and three cars stopped or creeping along. We look to the right and there is a massive lone bison bull facing towards the RV. As we approach and slowdown, the 2000 lb animal snorts and starts galloping toward one of the cars ahead of us. As we stopped, he suddenly changed directions and came charging, full speed, with his head down, directly at the passenger side door. I sat there, not really able to do anything about what was to be the equivalent of getting t-boned by a car. Before I could say “Oh shit. Norris get us out of here!” Norris peeled out, and floored it around the stopped cars, just as the bison was no more than 10 feet away from ramming us. It was a really close call. It was also a really good reminder of how unpredictable wildlife can be. We had encountered tons of bison up to that point, most of which were extremely docile, like the ones in the video below.

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We encountered this herd in Wind Cave National Park.

In case anyone is wondering, yes we did go to Mount Rushmore. I’m not going to post pictures of it. It needs no more promotion from me, everyone has heard of it and knows what it looks like. I’d encourage people to go to other places in South Dakota. The state really is beautiful and has way more to offer than just the famous granite sculpture. Badlands NP, Custer SP, Wind Cave NP, Wounded Knee, etc. I encourage everyone traveling through South Dakota to visit historical sites which teach the natural history and story of westward expansion and suppression of the native populations instead. Once you learn about that stuff, then decide if you want to understand why four white men are carved into a granite cliff in the Black Hills. I don’t want to sound overly cynical, it was interesting to visit the museum and learn about the logistics involved in creating a piece of art that large and how the workers can sculpt something like that, but my non-celebratory amusement ended there.

After South Dakota, we headed to Boulder to see some of Glenna and Norris’ old friends. It was a blast. I got to meet some new people and do Boulder things. Special thanks to Stacey, Anna, Erin, and Elise for entertaining and hosting us, it was great to meet all of you!

And now, the fun, the adventure, the sightseeing is on hold for a few days as I begin the serious business of doing my final prep days for my through hike. I was able to get some short hikes in while visiting Boulder and Rocky Mountain National Park the past few days and I now feel acclimated. The biggest concern for me right now is a slightly sore and swollen ankle. I have no idea what happened, but I’ve been dealing with a mild sprain since South Dakota, when I first started feeling it. It is not painful to walk or put weight on it, but I probably couldn’t play soccer or any other kind of sport that requires agility and hard planting. I have time here in Denver to give it some rest. My old college roommate Andy has given me his couch for the week, and I have other friends who have offered their couches as well if I need to let the ankle heal longer. I will not start my hike until it feels 100%. At least I didn’t step on a nail this time.

I’ll be doing a post later this week about my food plan for this hike. I don’t plan on doing anything drastically different from my SHT through hike, just newer recipes and maybe a different breakfast plan. More to come on that.

I’m going to call it here. I am very slow at putting these posts together, and most of the afternoon is gone now. I will update in a couple days.

Much love,

-Nick

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